The Labyrinth of Illusions
by Boogum
Summary: Zuko was sure that he was dreaming. It didn't matter that he had already pinched his arm (and, yes, it had hurt) or that he felt as awake as a bat-cat on a full moon. What mattered was that this was not his bedroom and there seemed to be no exit. Just endless, endless mist and rock. Oh, and he was trapped with the waterbender.
1. In Which Zuko Has a Problem

This story was written as a gift for my homegirl **Advocaat** for the 2013 Zutara Secret Santa on LJ. I decided to incorporate three of her prompts; however, to keep an element of surprise, I'm not going to reveal which ones until the end. *evil cackle*

But enough chitchat from me. To the story we go!

* * *

**In Which Zuko Has a Problem**

Zuko was sure that he was dreaming. It didn't matter that he had already pinched his arm (and, yes, it had hurt), or that he felt as awake as a bat-cat on a full moon. No, what mattered was that he was supposed to be in his bed in the Fire Nation palace, and since the last time he checked his bedroom did not look like a cave shrouded in white mist, he could only assume that this was all some kind of crazy dream from which he couldn't escape. Or he had somehow sleepwalked to a nearby cavern and then woken up (only he'd never sleepwalked in his life, and he was sure that even his sleepwalking self would have been intelligent enough to put on shoes and a shirt). Whatever. The point was that this was not his bedroom and there seemed to be no exit. Just endless, endless mist and rock.

Oh, and he couldn't firebend.

He frowned and held his hand at eye level, concentrating on his breathing to create a small ball of flames in the centre of his palm. And concentrated. And concentrated.

A frustrated sound escaped his lips, and he dropped his hand back to his side. "Still not working," he muttered. "What kind of stupid dream is this?"

Suddenly, there was a high-pitched scream and then something heavy crashed into him from above, knocking him to the ground and making all the breath vanish from his lungs. He groaned in pain, conscious of the bruises already forming in throbbing spots all over his body. He felt like he'd been hit with one of his father's stone statues, only the thing that had tried to kill him didn't feel so hard now. More warm and soft, and was that a hint of soap he smelt?

He groaned again and propped himself up on his elbows to look at the 'thing' still sprawled on his lap. The thing that had dark, flowing hair and unmistakable curves that brushed against him as it—_she_—pushed herself into a sitting position, spreading her hands on his bare chest. He inhaled a sharp breath, and then the veil of brown fell away from her face and he was confronted with a pair of big blue eyes.

Very angry blue eyes.

"_You_!" she exclaimed with loathing, and swept her arm back in a motion that should have summoned her water to attack him. Except nothing happened. She tried it again and then stared at her hand, fingers trembling slightly. "My bending." Her gazed fixed on him. "What have you done to my bending, you—"

Suddenly, she was hitting at every inch of him she could reach (which was a lot since she was still straddling his hips). Zuko grunted and tried to wriggle out from underneath her, or at least get enough leverage to push her off, but she just followed his movement and kept on hitting and grabbing and putting her hands all over him, her body pressing and sliding up against his, and—

Oh, spirits, he really did not need her to put her thigh right _there_.

Panicking, he grabbed her wrists and used all of his weight to roll them over, pinning her against the ground with his body. "Enough!" he growled, trapping her hands above her head with the grip he still had on her wrists.

Katara glared at him, breathing heavily. They were so close now that their noses were almost touching, and he could feel her breasts brushing against his bare chest with every breath she took. This did not help his growing predicament—especially when she started squirming underneath him and bucking her hips in an attempt to throw him off, creating all sorts of sensations in the lower part of his anatomy.

Zuko closed his eyes, cursing the fact he was male and tired, and his body just had to choose this moment to get aroused by some stupid waterbending girl who didn't know how to keep her hands—or thighs, for that matter—to herself. "Stop moving," he gritted out between clenched teeth.

"Get off me!" she shrieked, ignoring his request and squirming even more.

Zuko winced. "Trust me, I would love to, but then you'll just attack me again."

"You deserve it! After everything you did in Ba Sing Se, you double-crossing—" Her eyes suddenly widened. "Is that—" she glanced down at where their hips were pressed against each other and then stared back at him in a mixture of surprise and distaste. "Please tell me that's a knife I can feel."

Zuko's cheeks burned, spreading all the way to the tips of his ears and even down his neck in a flush of heat.

"Ugh, that's disgusting!" Katara exclaimed, going a bit pink in the face and pushing him off her, taking advantage of his loosened grip. "I can't believe you got turned on by that, you—you—"

"It's not like I can help it!" Zuko retorted in frustration, placing his hands over his lap to hide his, ahem, problem. "You were the one who kept throwing yourself all over me like some shameless harlot."

"Harlot?" Her blush darkened. "Why you—I wasn't even—_ugh_! I was not throwing myself all over you. I was trying to _attack_ you. There is a big difference, Zuko." She folded her arms under her breasts. "But I guess, being the horrible person that you are, you wouldn't understand that. No doubt you always get your kicks that way. It makes me wonder why you really tied me to that tree."

Now it was his turn to blush. Again. "I have never—how could you even think that I—" he made a frustrated sound and covered his face with his hands, hiding the red stain of his embarrassment. "Just shut up!"

Katara made a choked noise. He raised his head to glare at her, only to realise she was staring at his lap. He swore under his breath and promptly put his hands back to cover the tent he was pitching in his pants, cursing his subconscious and every spirit he knew for putting him in this mortifying situation. Of all the females in the world, why did it have to be _her_?

"Just let me wake up already!" he groaned, staring up at the cavern roof as if some otherworldly figure might suddenly emerge to grant his wish.

He did not like this dream. He did not like the fact that the damned waterbender was in his dream. And he really did not like the fact that he was currently feeling very stiff and uncomfortable and could do nothing about it since the stupid girl was standing right there and staring at him as if he were some lecherous creep for daring to get an erection. As if he actually had a choice in the matter.

Katara's expression became a little mulish as she stared at him, and she started tapping her foot in a manner that suggested she was trying hard not to respond to his comment but her know-it-all nature was getting the better of her. Finally, she cracked. "What are you talking about?" she snapped. "I hate to break it to you, Zuko, but this isn't a dream."

Zuko rolled his eyes. "Of course it is. That's why I'm trapped in this stupid cave instead of sleeping in my bed where I'm supposed to be, and why I can't firebend. I don't know why you're here, but I guess my subconscious just wants to punish me today." A moody expression crossed his face and he threw a loose pebble at the wall. "Like I haven't suffered enough already."

She took a step forward. "Wait, you can't bend either?"

He sighed in exasperation, wondering if she had always been this dim-witted. "Didn't I just say that?"

She didn't seem to hear his remark, which made him wonder why he even bothered responding to this figment of his imagination who only seemed to exist to torment him. He glowered at the wall and muttered under his breath about how the spirits clearly hated him, and how he wished they would just put him out of his misery already, because this was getting to be too much. The Avatar's waterbender? Really?

"Shut up for a second," Katara said impatiently. "I think I know where we are."

Zuko closed his mouth, but his expression was one of disbelief.

"I think—" she cast her eyes about her in a mixture of fear and wonder "—I think we're in the Spirit World."

He raised his eyebrow. "Right. Somehow, I was magically transported from my bed in the palace to the Spirit World, and you just happen to be here as well. That makes so much sense."

"Makes more sense than your dream theory," she retorted, raising her chin. "Idiot."

"She's right, you know."

Zuko flinched at the sound of the new voice and scrambled into a bending stance … only to remember that he couldn't bend. Somehow, it wasn't much of a comfort when he saw that Katara had done the same—or when he saw the owner of the voice materialise from the mist, clutching a pitchfork in one hand. His eyes widened and for a moment he just stood there staring at the newcomer and trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Apparently, Katara was having the same problem.

"Who are you?" she asked, tilting her head to the side as if that would somehow give her a better perspective.

_What_ _are you_ was the question Zuko had wanted to ask. The creature had the body of what he assumed was a dragon (he'd never actually seen one except in pictures), though its back feet were shaped like hooves. Its face was an odd mixture of lizard and some kind of snout thing with sharp teeth. It also had giant antlers sticking out from its scaly head. In short, it was hideous and probably would have been terrifying if it wasn't the same size as that arrow-headed nuisance Zuko had been trying to capture for three years, even with it standing upright on two feet.

The creature puffed out its chest proudly and began to speak in a loud voice. "I am the mist that leads men astray, the walls that appear in your path to block your way. I am what you wish to see and what you fear the most." He spread his arms in a grand gesture. "I am the great spirit of illusions, the legendary dragon-moose! I am Cuòjué Bili-Shi-Jing!He shrugged and gave a toothy smile. "Though my friends just call me Bill."

"Um … okay, Bill," Katara said slowly. "That's great, but why am I here? This is the Spirit World, isn't it?"

Bill nodded. "Indeed it is, Missy. This is my home." He gave one of the rocks near him a fond pat. "Do you like it? I decorated it myself."

Zuko resisted the urge to facepalm. "Sure. The mist really adds to the charm. Now are you going to tell us why you brought us here or not?" His eyes narrowed. "I'm assuming it was you who brought us here."

Bill's mouth curved into a sly smile. "Oh, you assume correctly. As for why I brought you here, I was bored."

Katara's jaw dropped. "Bored?'

"Yes, bored. It's been a while since I've tormented humans, and you two seemed perfect for my little game." He cackled and got a faraway look in his eyes, as if he were seeing beyond the cave and mist to something that truly delighted him. "Yes, this is going to be great entertainment."

Katara opened and closed her mouth a few times, flailing for words. "But—but—you just can't do that!"

"Uh, yes I can," Bill responded. "I'm an all-powerful spirit and you are just mere mortals." He pointed his pitchfork at her, nearly poking her in the stomach. "Unless you disagree?"

Her eyes widened and she took an involuntary step back to avoid the pointy tips that threatened to turn her into skewered waterbender.

"Well?" Bill taunted.

Katara opened her mouth to respond, but it was Zuko who spoke.

"Why us?" he demanded, folding his arms across his chest. "There are plenty of other humans out there, so why not pick two of them?"

"Because that wouldn't be half as fun," Bill answered, as if that were obvious. He lowered his pitchfork and leaned on it like a staff. "You have to understand that there are a lot of things I have to consider when choosing contestants for my game. I admit it's amusing to pick earthbenders because they get so frustrated when they realise they can't break down my walls, but hey, you've seen a full-grown man wave his arms and scream at a wall to fall once, you've seen it a thousand times. I thought it was time for a change."

Zuko raised his eyebrow. "That still doesn't answer my question."

Bill flashed another of his toothy smiles. "Let's just say I've had my eye on the two of you for a while now."

Zuko wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. He glanced at Katara, who looked just as worried, but when their eyes met her expression twisted as if she'd just bit into a lemon and she looked the other way. No doubt she had just realised she was having a non-antagonistic moment with him. Wonderful. If he was truly going to be stuck with the waterbender for whatever 'game' the crazy dragon-moose had cooked up for them, it looked as if they were off to a great start. First, she'd attacked him, then she'd got him all hot and bothered with her grabby hands and wandering thighs (thankfully, _that_ had passed), and now she was treating him as if he were the dirt under her boot.

Apparently, the dragon-moose was right. This wasn't a dream. This was a nightmare.

"Look, I don't have time for your games!" Zuko snapped, getting frustrated now. "Just tell me what I have to do so I can get out of here."

"Oh, that's quite a simple matter," Bill said in a genial tone. "You just have to make it through my labyrinth of illusions. If you escape, you can go home, but if you can't find the exit in time, well—" his teeth flashed in a row of silver spikes "—I'm afraid you'll be lost in there forever."

"What do you mean 'lost in there forever'?" Zuko demanded.

Bill paused and scratched his chin with a clawed finger. "Well, at least until you die and your body rots away to bones; then your spirit will be trapped in their forever." He shrugged. "Same thing, really. I suggest you just focus on getting out before the last sand in the hourglass falls."

"Wait, what hourglass?" Katara exclaimed, looking around the cavern in panic.

"This one," Bill said, clicking his fingers—er, claws—and making a giant hourglass filled with red sand appear. "Oh, it looks like the sand is already falling. You'd better hurry. You've only got forty-eight hours."

Zuko clenched his hands into fists. "That's it! I've had enough! You just can't—"

But whatever he was going to say was never heard. The dragon-moose simply clicked his claws again to make a part of the wall open, and then he swung his pitchfork round in a sweeping arc, cackling like some evil villain from a puppet show all the while. Zuko yelped as he suddenly found himself being pushed from behind by an invisible force, knocking him off his feet and sending him flying through the opening into a swirl of purple light and mist. A second yelp told him that he wasn't alone.

He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the rushing in his ears and the way his stomach kept plummeting and rising, as if it were trying to leap right out of his body. He'd fallen from great heights a few times now, but this was different. This was like he was going forwards rather than downwards, and his body felt like it was being squeezed and compressed, then stretched back out again, then squeezed, then stretched, and on and on it went. It was horrible, and just when he thought the falling—if you could even call it that—would never stop, the mist cleared and his back struck the ground with a thump. A second later Katara landed on top of him, once more knocking all the breath from his lungs.

Zuko groaned, still too winded to move, and wondered when it was that he had become the waterbender's personal fall breaker. Then his stomach started twisting and churning again, and some of the colour drained from his cheeks. He was not going to be sick. He was not going to be sick. He was not—

"I think I'm going to be sick," he gasped, and managed to sit up just enough to turn his face to the side before he vomited up what looked like the little he had managed to consume of his dinner.

"Gross, you got some on my skirt," Katara complained, scrambling away from him and scrunching her nose in distaste.

"I never asked you to fall on me," Zuko muttered, wiping a smudge of sick from his chin.

"As if I actually wanted to," she retorted. "You think I like being here with you after what you did, let alone touch you?"

_Here we go_, he thought, placing his head in his hands.

"You said you had changed! You said all those things to make me trust you, and then you just turned around and threw it all in my face, and then Aang—" her voice got choked up, but then she paused. "Hey, are you even listening to me?"

Zuko didn't budge until she nudged him none too gently with her foot. Then he just stared at her flatly, as if to ask what the heck she wanted. His stomach was still churning and his mouth tasted like vomit. He was in no mood to listen to her lectures or to grovel at her feet for forgiveness.

"Wow, you look really pale," she observed. "I didn't realise you had such a weak stomach. How did you survive on a boat all those years?"

"It's not that," he said without thinking, and then clamped his mouth shut.

He was not going to open up to this girl about his life again. She didn't need to know that he was still struggling to get used to all the rich food at the palace (let alone eat); that sometimes he felt like a stranger in his own home, because it had been _so long_ and everything should have been the same, but it was like someone had come along and moved all the things he loved, leaving this unsettling image of familiarity and wrongness. She didn't need to know about his guilt, or the fact he hadn't slept properly in weeks. She didn't need to know anything, so he was not going to say anything.

Katara stared at him with a crease on her brow. He could almost see the confliction going on inside that stubborn little head of hers. Her natural instinct was to help—she'd shown him that much in Ba Sing Se and when Azula had injured his uncle—but he had also sided with his sister during the fight in the catacombs, which had promptly put him back at Hated Enemy status. It was no wonder Katara didn't know how to respond to him being ill now, but then, as he continued to say nothing, her expression soured and just like that any trace of compassion was gone. It seemed hate had won.

"Well, whatever," she said dismissively. "I don't care what you do; just stay away from me."

Zuko didn't feel this statement warranted a response. Instead, he got to his feet and slowly turned on the spot to examine his surroundings. Not that there was much to see. There was a giant stone wall in front of him, a giant stone wall behind him, and though he could see a path to his left and right, both seemed to lead to nothing but more stone and mist. They were in a labyrinth, alright, and it looked as if it was not going to be an easy task to find the exit. He raised his gaze skyward and saw the hourglass hovering high in the air like some glowing sun, counting down the seconds with each blood-red piece of sand that fell.

His eyes narrowed. He was _not_ going to be trapped here.

Zuko turned back to face Katara, only to pause when he saw her heading down the path to the right. "Where are you going?"

"I'm getting out of this maze," she announced, continuing to march ahead.

Zuko easily caught up to her. "I don't think we should separate."

"And I really don't care."

He gritted his teeth. "Look, I know you don't trust or even like me—I get that—but we're stuck here together, and—"

Katara swung around to face him. "What part of 'stay away from me' do you not understand?"

Zuko closed his mouth, biting back the angry retort that flew to his lips. "I'm just trying to be practical," he said with forced patience. "We'll have a better chance getting out of here together than we would alone."

Which wasn't true at all; he was certain that he had a good chance making it out of the labyrinth himself, but he didn't know if she would have half as much luck without her bending. The last thing he needed was another life on his conscience.

Katara's eyes flashed and she got right up in his face. "And I'm telling you that I would rather be trapped in this place forever than spend another minute in your company, so go find another path to take and leave me—" she shoved him hard in the chest "—_alone_!"

Zuko stumbled back a few steps, caught off guard, but Katara didn't wait for his response. She just raised her chin and stomped down the path, not even giving him a second glance. His mouth twisted into a frown, but this time he did not follow. If she wanted to be stubborn and go off alone, that was her choice. He'd only tried to help because—

"_Maybe you could be free of it … I have healing powers."_

Zuko shook his head, as if to shake off the memories. Best not to think about what had happened in Ba Sing Se. He needed to focus on getting out of the maze.

"Fine," he muttered, turning the other way. "If she wants to take the path on the right, then I'll take the one on the left."

But as he started making his way through the maze, he still couldn't help but worry. Katara might be a master waterbender and pack quite a punch when she wanted, but she did not have his training in stealth and non-bending fighting. He wondered if she would really be okay. He wondered if _he_ was going to be okay.

"Something about this place," he mumbled, gazing warily at the mist that crept around him in tendrils of translucent white.

If he had his bending, he could just create a fire to give him more light, but it seemed he would just have to make do with limited vision. Not a problem; he'd done this plenty of times as the Blue Spirit.

"I can do this," Zuko told himself. "I _will_ do this."

Because he was not about to let a dragon-moose named Bill get the better of him. If there was thing about Zuko that would never change, it was that he never gave up. Not when he had been forced to spend years searching for the Avatar, and certainly not now.

He would make it out of this maze.

* * *

So, I think it's pretty obvious that I'm not going for anything serious here, but I figured you would appreciate my cracktastic maze adventure with Bill the dragon-moose, Allison. ^_~

As for all of you others who might be reading this, I would apologise for the randomness except I'm really not sorry at all. There will be much more craziness in the next chapter. *cackles*


	2. In Which Katara Attends a Tea Party

**In Which Katara Attends a Tea Party**

Katara was lost. Her heart pounded as she stopped in the middle of the corridor, glancing around at the image of her own frightened face, which was reflected back at her from a hundred different angles. She'd already run into several dead ends and almost got impaled on a trap of spikes, but this latest setback was by far the worst. At some point the mist had got so thick that she had been unable to see anything. When she had broken free of the blinding substance, she'd found herself in this twisting path of mirrors.

"Keep it together," she muttered. "There has to be a way out around here somewhere."

It didn't matter if every corridor looked the same or that she no longer knew from where she had come; she could not let herself get trapped in this place.

"_We'll have a better chance getting out of here together than we would alone."_

She made a scornful sound and kept walking. As if she would ever trust, let alone cooperate with, that double-crossing jerk again. She would never forgive him for betraying her in Ba Sing Se. Never.

"_I'm sorry. That's something we have in common."_

"Shut up!" Katara yelled, clenching her hands into fists.

A part of her was aware that she probably looked half insane right now, shrieking at what appeared to be her own reflection. Not that she cared. She was tired and scared and she really, really did not want to think about Zuko. He was just a stupid, opportunistic prince who didn't give two hoots about anyone but himself. It would not do to think about how vulnerable and subdued he had looked back in the catacombs; how he had looked even worse when she had seen him just before. She had not been blind to the dark shadows that stood out like bruises under his unscarred eye, nor the gauntness of his face. Even his body (which was rather nice and muscled, as an unbiased part of her had noticed thanks to his shirtless state) had seemed much leaner than she remembered.

But none of that mattered, because he was a horrible person and she was _not_ going to let herself feel sorry for him again.

"So there!" she announced to no one in particular.

"My, my, you do like to make a lot of noise."

Katara's heart-rate spiked and she spun around to find the person who had spoken; however, all she saw was her own face staring back at her. Some of the reflections were warped and gave her a monstrous appearance, while others were unnaturally large or too small. The girl in the mirrors breathed hard and gazed about with frantic eyes, her hands balled into fists.

"Show yourself!" Katara ordered, sounding much braver than she felt.

"I'm right here."

She jumped in fright, almost stumbling backwards. The voice had come from directly in front of her, but all she saw was just another reflection. Her breathing quickened and she took another step back.

"What—what's going on?" she demanded, feeling her stomach flutter in panic. "Why can't I see you? Are you some kind of spirit?"

"You could say that," the voice allowed, giving a small chuckle. "As for why you can't see me, you just need to open your eyes and look. Honestly, it's not that hard."

Her eyes narrowed. "I _am_ looking," she retorted, not liking the voice's tone. "I don't see anything but my own face."

"Silly human girl. You only see what you think you should be seeing. Open your eyes and _look_."

Katara pursed her lips. She was really beginning to dislike this disembodied voice. However, he—for it sounded like a he—seemed to genuinely believe she could see him if she wanted, which did give her pause. The mirrors seemed solid enough, but what if …

"_You just have to make it through my labyrinth of illusions."_

"That's it!" she exclaimed, hitting her fist against her palm. "This is all just an illusion!"

As soon as she said the words, the mirrors shattered in an explosion of glass. She cried out in alarm and covered her head with her arms, but the shards did not cut into her as she feared; they simply turned back into mist, curling in translucent tendrils of white around her and then faded to nothing, leaving her standing once more on a path surrounded by stone walls. She blinked a few times and then carefully lowered her arms.

"I did it," she murmured, and then it sunk in that she had at last escaped the maze of mirrors and a huge grin curved her mouth. "I actually did it!"

"Well, don't just stand there congratulating yourself," the voice responded. "You've still got a long way to go, and it's not like you managed to swallow a hippolephant in one bite. Now _that_ would be an achievement."

Katara's grin faltered and she turned to confront her tormenter, determined to see the owner of the snide little voice now that she had broken the illusion. Only there was nothing there.

"Down here," the voice prompted.

She lowered her gaze and found herself staring at a—

"Caterpillar?" she said, scrunching her nose.

The caterpillar's bushy eyebrows furrowed. "That's _the_ caterpillar to you, girl." He sniffed haughtily. "Honestly, I don't know why I bother. Humans are so obtuse."

Katara had the grace to blush. "I'm sorry if I sounded rude. You just took me by surprise, but I really am grateful. I don't think I would have ever escaped those mirrors if you hadn't come to help me."

"Who said I was helping you?" the caterpillar retorted, raising one eyebrow. "I was just trying to enjoy a nice cup of tea with some friends, but you made that very difficult with all of your shouting and stomping around. I knew we'd never get any peace unless I got rid of you."

She pursed her lips. "You know, you could at least try to be polite."

"Why should I? All you humans ever do is scream and stomp all over my home." He shook his fuzzy head. "No manners at all."

Her eyes widened. "Wait, you mean you live in this labyrinth?"

"Obviously."

"Then—then could you show me the way out?" she asked in a rush.

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Bill wouldn't like that. He might raise my rent again."

"But you just helped me before."

"That was different." The caterpillar averted his face. "You were ruining my tea party."

She folded her arms under breasts. "Look, I'm going to be trapped in this labyrinth forever unless I can find the way out before the last sands of that hourglass fall," she said, pointing to the timer glowing up in the sky. "I promise you now that if I get stuck in here because you didn't help me, I'm going to haunt you for the rest of my life and ruin every single tea party you have from this day forth!"

For a moment they just glared at each other, and then the caterpillar let out a sigh. "Fine, I shall give you _some_ assistance, but I want to finish my tea party first." He gave another haughty sniff. "It's a special occasion, and I'm not having that ruined because of some silly human girl."

"Fine," Katara agreed. Anything to get out of this labyrinth.

Without another word, the caterpillar shuffled along on his fuzzy green body towards a wall that seemed to be a dead end. He paused when he was close enough to touch the mossy surface. "Well," he said, glancing back at her. "Are you coming?"

"Uh, that's a wall."

The caterpillar rolled his eyes and then passed right through the stone. Katara blinked, once, twice, and then just stared at the spot where she'd last seen her grumpy companion. He'd vanished. Poof! Just like that. Now it was true that she could do a lot of things that others might consider miraculous, but walk through walls was beyond her expertise. Unless—

Inhaling a deep breath, she walked forward and stopped in front of the wall, reaching out her hand to run her fingers along the stone … and watched them slip through the image as if it were air.

"Another illusion, huh?"

She smiled and took a step forward, and then she disappeared.

**oOo**

The mist was getting thicker. Zuko placed his hand against the wall on his left, letting the moss-covered stone guide his path so that he would not miss any forks in the road or unwittingly step into a trap. He had been walking for hours, conscious of every speck of sand that fell in the hourglass above him, but so far nothing had happened to give him much alarm. In fact, he was beginning to think that the only real challenge of the labyrinth was indeed to find the exit. He'd seen a few obvious traps that had been easy to avoid, and while the mist and the feeling of being watched was a little unnerving, it was nothing he couldn't handle.

"Don't know why I was so worried," he muttered.

Still, if he couldn't find the correct path it wouldn't matter how simple the maze was to navigate; he'd be stuck with no hope of escape. He wondered if Katara was doing any better.

Suddenly, the mist got so thick that he could no longer see the outline of his hand. He frowned and slowed his pace, relying on the feeling of the mossy stone to keep him from getting turned around. The farther he walked, the thicker the tendrils of white got, brushing against his bare skin like cold snakes and clinging to him as if to hold him back. It was a horrible feeling, and the thought that the mist might actually be alive teased his mind. It was something he had wondered earlier, but now he couldn't shake the idea. The mist just felt so invasive, so _conscious_, as if it were probing him for something it wanted.

Zuko shook his head. "Get a grip. It's just mist."

Mist that was finally beginning to clear. He sighed in relief, only to pause when he saw the two doors set into the wall of what would have been a dead end. On each door was carved a stone head: the one on the left had a drooping moustache and a permanent scowl; the one on the right was identical except it couldn't seem to stop smiling. Oddly, they kind of reminded him of his grandfather Azulon.

"Well, do you plan on standing there all night?" the head on the left snapped. "Hurry up and choose."

Zuko blinked. "Excuse me?"

The head on the right cracked an even broader grin. "One of these doors will take you closer to the exit. The other leads to certain death. Obviously, mine is the correct door to choose."

"Nonsense!" the left retorted. "Everyone knows it's my door that leads to the exit and yours that leads to certain death."

The head on the right made a sad sound. "I do wish you would stop telling these lies, Pagus. It doesn't do you any good."

"_What_?" Pagus spluttered, stone eyes bulging. "The only liar here is you, Magus! You wouldn't know the truth if it danced naked on your fat, stony face!"

"There you go again," Magus sighed, and then glanced at Zuko. "Don't listen to him. He's a compulsive liar. Makes up stories all the time. You would be wise to choose my door."

"Oh, yeah?" Pagus growled. "Come over here and say that to my face, blockhead! I'll give you the old one-two with my fist and then we'll see who's the real liar!"

Zuko frowned. "But you don't have any hands. You're just a head attached to a door."

It seemed a reasonable thing to point out, but it had quite the effect on Pagus. His droopy moustache blew this way and that as he blustered on and on about how rude humans were, and that he might be a stone head on a door, but he could still give a walloping to anyone who dared to disrespect him.

"You feel that?" Pagus shrieked, puffing out his cheeks and squinting in a manic-looking glare at Zuko. "That's my fist hitting you in your stupid human head! Take that! And that! And—"

"Yeah, I don't feel anything," Zuko said flatly.

Magus just sighed. "Please don't judge us doors by his behaviour. Pagus was adopted."

"ADOPTED? YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WE'RE TWINS, YOU LYING, LITTLE BAST—"

"_Enough_!" Zuko exclaimed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. "Just shut up the both of you!"

Pagus and Magus both fell silent, though it could hardly be said that Pagus looked pleased to have had his tirade cut short. Not that he ever looked happy; that seemed to be Magus's job. The head on the right was grinning so widely it looked as if his face might crack.

"So, all I have to do is choose a door?" Zuko asked, glancing from one head to the next.

"That's it," Magus confirmed. "Of course, you could go back the way you came and try to find another path, but this is the fastest route to the exit."

Pagus gave a creaky laugh. "Now _that_ is something we can agree on. Of course, he won't be going anywhere if he chooses the wrong door."

A crease formed on Zuko's brow. There was a fifty-fifty chance that he could pick the correct door and be set on the quickest path to the exit. Of course, there was also a fifty-fifty chance that he would pick the door to certain death. He glanced up at the hourglass and saw that the sand collecting at the bottom was already over a quarter full. That meant at least twelve hours had passed since he had entered the maze, which wouldn't have been a big deal if he knew the size of the labyrinth. Unfortunately, he had no idea how much progress he had made in those hours, which also meant that he couldn't discern if he would have enough time to find the exit if he turned back now and tried to find a new path. Either way it was a risk.

Zuko stared at the stone heads, taking in their respective scowl and smile. They were identical yet opposites in nature. Each claimed the other lied about their door being the correct one, which meant that one of them _had_ to be lying; he just had to figure out which one. On the surface, the obvious door to pick to enter was Magus. He smiled lots, was polite and helpful, and he appeared to actually care about Zuko's well-being. On the other hand, Pagus was grumpy, unhelpful, and didn't seem to care at all whether Zuko lived or died.

"I choose the door on the left," Zuko announced, pointing at Pagus.

For the first time, Magus's smile faltered. "Are you sure you want to do that? There is no going back once you walk through that door."

"I'm sure," Zuko affirmed.

If there was one thing he had learnt from Azula, it was that liars tended to smile before they revealed their sharp teeth. It was also never a good idea to trust someone who freely offered information without waiting to be asked. It didn't matter if Magus seemed like the nicer door; Zuko's gut told him to go with Pagus.

The head on the left cackled. "Take that, you smug block of rock! My door got picked even with all your charm and smiles!"

Magus just sighed. "Such a shame."

And with that both heads seemed to lose the life that had animated them and the door to the left swung open. Zuko hesitated for a moment, wondering if he really had guessed correctly. Then again, he had not come this far by being too tentative to take risks. He stepped through the door, passing through a swirl of purple light. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he found himself in some kind of room covered in murals (all painted with dragon-mooses that looked a lot like Bill wearing different hats) with a single door waiting on the other side.

"I guess I was right to go with Pa—ahhh!"

Zuko gasped as water gushed forth from the roof and walls, flowing with the force of a tsunami and filling the room with liquid in a way that had CERTAIN DEATH imprinted all over it. Apparently, he had been wrong. He had to get out of this room, but when he turned around to go back through the door, he found nothing but solid wall. The door was gone, and the water was now up to his waist, his chin, above his head. Spirits, the room was so small that he would soon be trapped underwater with no way to breathe.

He swam to the opposite side of the room and checked the door he had seen earlier, but there was no latch or seemed to be anyway to open the damn thing. Frustrated, he started tracing his fingers along the wall for any sign of a catch or some way to help him escape. When that elicited no results, he dove under the water and scanned the floor. The longer he searched, the more his mind screamed with panic. This was not good. This was really, really not good.

His lungs began to protest. Zuko swam back to the surface and took in a gulp of air, practically pressed up against the roof. Water got in his mouth and up his nostrils. He was running out of time.

"Come on!" he growled. "There has to be something!"

But the water just kept on coming, and he couldn't breathe, and—

Zuko stopped struggling, distracted by the feathery touch of his hair against his cheek. His _dry_ hair. Now that he thought about it, he didn't feel damp at all. Even his pyjama pants felt dry to touch.

"Wait a minute," he said aloud. "Is this water even real?"

Just like that the liquid was gone and he found himself sprawled on all fours. He inhaled precious oxygen and flopped onto his back, taking a moment to catch his breath and let his nerves calm. That had been unnerving to say the least.

A crease formed on his brow. "So, did I pick the right door or not?"

Had he somehow avoided the trap for Certain Death or was this simply another part of the labyrinth and he was now on the quickest path to the exit? Zuko couldn't know for certain, but he did know that he couldn't stay in this room any longer. Sighing, he got to his feet and headed for the door with no latch. Maybe he could figure out a way to open it now that there wasn't any nonexistent water choking his lungs.

He reached out to touch the smooth wood, but the door swung open before his fingers could even make contact. That had been easy. Perhaps the water had just been some kind of test and, by passing it, whatever charm had been keeping the door locked had been released.

"Whatever," Zuko muttered, and stepped into the light.

Once again, he found himself on a path surrounded by ridiculously high walls. Great. He was getting really sick of stone and moss. And he was getting hungry, and tired, and—

"Enough," he scolded himself. "Just keep walking."

There would be time to tend to his ailments later. For now, he just had to focus on getting the heck out of this place.

Zuko squared his shoulders and continued walking at a fast pace, thinking only of putting one foot in front of the other. That was when he heard the scream. He paused, raising his head to listen, his heart beating fast. That had sounded like—

"Katara!" he exclaimed, and started to run.

He didn't even need to consider the option. The moment he had heard her scream his only thought was to find her. His heart raced and raced, making the blood pound in his ears, and urging him to run faster. Walls and twisting paths flashed past his vision, but he did not allow himself to get distracted. Her cries were getting louder now, which meant he could only be getting closer.

"Katara!" he shouted, casting his gaze this way and that. "Where are you? _Katara_!"

"I'm down here."

Zuko skidded to a halt, turning towards the sound of the pitiful voice. Then he saw the hole where a trapdoor had opened in the footpath. "Katara?" he questioned in a softer tone, moving towards the gap in the stone.

"That is my naaame," she said, dragging out the word so that the M seemed to pop, and then giggled. Which promptly turned into a shriek. "Oh, hurry up. I don't know how much longer I can hold on."

Zuko furrowed his brow. Had she—had she just _giggled_? She gave another panicked gasp, and he quickly shrugged off the matter, deciding he could worry about her odd behaviour later. He soon discovered her dilemma when he looked down the hole and saw her clinging to a thin ledge while her legs dangled over an abyss of black. He wasn't sure if the hole just kept on going and that was why he couldn't see the bottom or if it was some kind of portal to another part of the labyrinth, but he wasn't about to let her find out either.

"Hang on," he said, flattening himself on his stomach and extending his arm towards her. "I think I can reach you."

Katara stared up at him through hazy blue eyes. "Oh, great, it's you!" she complained. "Why does it always have to be you?"

Zuko ignored this remark and simply ordered her to grab his hand.

"Why should I trust you?" she responded a little petulantly. "You'll probably drop me."

"Listen to me, Katara," he said with forced patience. "I'm not going to let you fall, but if you keep refusing my help you just might succeed in doing that all on your own. Now give me your hand."

She glanced past her shoulder at the endless chasm below her, then stared back up at his face. He didn't know why she was hesitating (did she really hate him that much?), but then a part of the rock crumbled away beneath her fingers and the decision was made for her. She let out a squeak of fright and lost her grip. For a second there was nothing keeping her secure, and her eyes widened as gravity kicked in and tugged her back towards the shadows; then Zuko's fingers closed around her wrist and she juddered to a halt. They both exhaled in relief.

"Hold on," he ordered.

Carefully, he began to haul her up towards him, gripping the ledge with his free hand so as not to lose his balance and send them both tumbling into the chasm. That was the last thing he needed. Once she was closer, he shifted to his knees and wrapped his arm around her waist, then pulled her up the rest of the way with one quick motion. A gasp escaped her lips as they fell backwards from the momentum, though Zuko wasn't at all surprised when she ended up sprawled on his lap. It seemed to be a habit with her of late.

He assumed that she would simply get off him and so took a moment to catch his breath, content to just lie there and let the adrenaline fade. Instead, Katara leaned her elbows on his chest and stared at him through slightly unfocussed eyes. Their faces were so close he could count the different colours of blue that shaded her irises.

"I suppose you think that just because you saved me I'm supposed to forgive you now for all the terrible things you've done," she muttered, though her voice sounded a bit slurred. "Well, I won't. It's not like I really needed your help. I was doing just fine until you came along, all shirtless and—and Zukoish. And if you hadn't distracted me I'm sure I would have found a way to get out of that pit. I'm not some helpless female, you know!"

Zuko blinked. "Um, what?"

"And why are you dressed like this, anyway?" she continued as if he hadn't spoken, poking him in the ribs. "Don't they give you shirts at that fancy palace of yours or do you just like to prance around half-naked so you can dazzle all the girls with your pasty body?"

His cheeks warmed. "Uh—"

She leaned even closer, narrowing her eyes. "I bet this is all part of some evil plan of yours, isn't it?" She poked him in the chest again. "Well, I'm onto you, Prince Zuko. Here's one waterbender you won't ensnare with your tricks."

Zuko scrunched his nose. Her breath reeked of a bitter scent he'd come to associate with backwater taverns and his more unruly crew members back when he'd still had his ship and they had stopped at port to restock supplies. Suddenly, her slurred way of speaking and random giggles didn't seem so confusing.

"Wait a minute," he said, staring into her unfocussed blue eyes. "Are you drunk?"

Katara made a scoffing noise. "Please. I'm not sober. I'm perfectly drunk."

Zuko smacked his palm against his forehead. Just brilliant.

She tried to sit up but lost her balance and ended up rolling off him with an unsteady sway. Then she started giggling again. "Uh-oh. I can't get up."

"That's because you're drunk," Zuko said tiredly, sitting up and frowning at the girl sprawled on the ground beside him.

"No, no, no, no, no," she said, shaking her head and waggling her finger at him. "You've got it all wrong. All I've had to drink is some tea from the grumpy caterpillar."

"A caterpillar?" Zuko repeated, looking a bit sceptical.

She nodded. "Mhm. His friends were very strange. One of them had two heads and kept arguing with itself, and then—" she frowned and her eyes went even more unfocussed. "You know, I don't remember now. I'm sure the caterpillar was supposed to do something for me."

Zuko just sighed and placed his head in his hands. What was he supposed to do with this girl? He couldn't just leave her like this, but she would hardly be able to keep up with him in her state of intoxication either. A warm weight pressed against his side. He glanced down to see Katara leaning against him.

"Don't tell Zuko," she whispered, "but even though he's a double-crossing jerk, I think he's actually kind of cute."

"Um, Katara—"

She mashed her finger against his mouth. "Shhhhh. I said don't tell."

Zuko pulled his face back. "Alright, that's it." He slipped one arm under her knees and wrapped the other around her waist.

"Hey!" Katara cried, hitting him with her fists. "What are you doing? Let me go!"

Zuko ignored her protests and got to his feet, lifting her up as he did so that he was carrying her bridal-style. She continued to pummel her fists against his chest, but (thankfully) she wasn't putting much force behind the attack, and it wasn't long before she calmed down. Then she just glared at him.

"I hate you," she muttered.

"That's funny," he said, unable to resist teasing her a little, "because just before you were saying you thought I was kind of cute."

Two pink spots formed on her cheeks and she opened and closed her mouth a few times. "I still hate you!"

His mouth twitched into a smile, but he didn't say anything further and continued to carry her through the maze. She grumbled under her breath from time to time but otherwise was too drunk to put up much resistance. Not that he was exactly thrilled to be acting as the waterbender's palanquin. What he really needed was to find a safe place for them to rest so that she could sleep off the effects of the alcohol. He was too exhausted to carry her like this forever, and even if they were on a deadline, he didn't know how much longer he could keep going without taking a break himself.

Zuko shifted his grip on her legs and began searching in earnest for a suitable spot for them to rest. He rounded a corner and then paused when he saw a stone alcove situated between a fork in the path. It wasn't very large, but in that moment all Zuko cared about was that it would at least be some kind of shelter. He was tired, Katara was already a snoozing deadweight in his arms, and he really, really didn't want to keep walking.

He placed her on the ground inside the alcove and then settled down beside her, sighing as he let his head rest back against the stone. Katara made a sleepy noise and curled up against him, throwing one arm across his lap. Zuko froze, conscious of her fingers resting on the inside of his thigh, and carefully moved her arm so that it was resting back on her own body. Spirits, why couldn't this girl just keep her gropy hands to herself?

"I swear she's going to be the death of me," he muttered.

His gaze shifted to her profile, taking in her closed eyes and the way her chest rose and fell with each steady breath. His expression softened slightly and he couldn't help but reach out to brush some of the loose strands of hair away from her face. He supposed she wasn't so bad—at least when she wasn't hitting or screaming at him. Spirits knew how long that would last, though.

"You're going to have one heck of a hangover when you wake up," he observed not without sympathy.

Katara just made another sleepy sound and snuggled closer to him. Zuko sighed again and closed his eyes, resigning himself to being her human pillow. Better that than to accidentally wake her up and have to deal with her drunken ramblings and switchy behaviour.

He was asleep in seconds.


End file.
